Annabeth's Rundown on Runes
by Peanutbuttered-Demigod
Summary: Annabeth and Rachel head to New York City to investigate an increase of empousai in Brooklyn. When the two find themselves in a sticky situation, a certain two Shadowhunters swing in to help. Well. This will be interesting. Or just awkward. (Cont. to Percy's Day of Demonhunting)
1. Chapter 1

Annabeth cried out. The empousa lunged forward on its mismatched legs, hissing at her with fangs like a vampire's. The girl dodged the attack, swinging around with her bronze dagger in hand. The creature looked up at her with gleaming red eyes from its spot against the wall. With a sly smile, it grabbed onto a pipe and shinnied up the back of the building, disappearing into the darkness. Just like that.

Annabeth grumbled, sheathing her dagger. The brick wall before her was desolate and scarred by years of New York City traffic. She brought her fist up to slam it and call the empousa back down, but hesitated. She lowered her hand with a sigh, knowing it was no good. "What was that?" She said. "The tenth? Eleventh?"

"Twelfth," replied Rachel, splitting from the shadows. She was much better at that since she had become the Oracle. Was it some sort of creepy power that came with the job? Annabeth didn't know. "Twelve empousai that ran away after they attacked us. That's not counting the other twenty we killed."

"So what do we do now?"Annabeth asked, running a hand through her blonde curls. "All the empousai are scurrying up walls and disappearing. We can't catch them, and honestly, it would be counterproductive to try."

"It's your call, wise girl," Rachel said. "You're the genius here, not me." Annabeth shot her a glance. She hadn't wanted to take the obnoxious redhead with her on her hunting trip. She had asked for Percy_,_ but he was busy counseling a new batch of campers that week. He had begged Mr. D to leave that up to Clarisse or another senior camper, but the god was adamant (how he got past the big, sea green puppy-dog eyes, Annabeth would never know). And technically, she was busy with counseling too, but Chiron had offered for her to take over a mission involving empousai overrunning the city. So of course, she accepted. Little did she know that the centaur had made the infamous Oracle of Delphi follow along. Annabeth wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but she didn't say anything. Although the tension between herself and Rachel had diminished, it was still there.

"It's late," Annabeth decided. "We should get back to Camp. Tell Chiron-"

"Tell Chiron what?" Interrupted Rachel. "That the mission was just too hard for us to complete? That we went home because it was getting _dark_ outside?"

The blonde girl set her jaw. She hated this. If she went too far or too deep into the city, the empousai would overwhelm them and the mission would be lost. But if she turned back now, her pride would be bruised for years to come.

"Fine," she said. "Counter-productivity, here we come."

They climbed the pipe up the side of the building, slipping on the smooth metal, but finding hand- and footholds on the rims of pipe segments. Finally they reached the roof of what smelled to be an Italian restaurant. "There must have been an easier way to do that," remarked Rachel, panting.

"There was," said Annabeth. "But we're letting inefficiency be our guide, remember?"

The girl nodded and rolled her eyes, moving to the edge of the roof. The view was stopped short here and there by taller buildings and skyscrapers. Annabeth didn't know what she expected to see, and nothing presented itself to her as important or strange. Mostly just darkness, despite the lights of the city. She scratched her head, but hadn't a clue what she planned on doing. "The empousa must have crossed onto a nearby building, or else she wouldn't have climbed up here." Her mind began to link the gaps between what she knew and what she didn't. She turned to see the surrounding buildings. There was only one close enough to jump onto, even for an empousa.

She pointed. "There."

It was a few feet away, easily crossable if they jumped. Annabeth did first, taking a few steps back, then sprinting and launching herself over the edge, using the low wall as leverage. Her sneaker left the roof and for a moment she was airborne. Then she stumbled onto the roof of the other building, gaining stability as she jogged forward. She stopped for a breath, looking out over the city. Rachel joined her and they nodded, leaping onto the next building, and the next.

Then they came to a crossroads: three buildings, one on each side. Rachel and Annabeth stood there, hands on their hips, examining their choices. Annabeth sighed and scratched her blonde hair, thinking. Rachel was distracting her by mindlessly drawing on her jeans. If Percy was there, maybe he could've done something about this. He was a good fighter, and-

Uccchh. Annabeth made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. Now she sounded like she was inseparable from her boyfriend. She had seen other couples clinging to each other like life preservers and despised every disgusting minute of their presence. She loved Percy—more than almost anything in the world—but there was no way in Tartarus that she would become dependent on him.

But the situation hadn't lessened. Annabeth had to think; where would an ugly, odd-legged she-devil go?

She looked at her choices. Building A was taller than the one she stood on, almost impossible to reach. She turned; Building B was an abandoned office complex with crumbling dry wall, the wooden structure visible underneath. The young demigod wasn't sure if she wanted to walk on that rickety roof anyways. Building C was low, a long drop to the rooftop. It wasn't unstable, but she wasn't sure if the empousa would be able to land with its awkward leg pairing.

That counted Building C out. Building A was tall but sturdy, and Building B was about the right height, but dangerously unstable. Annabeth tried to imagine the empousa on that. It would be difficult for it, but the creatures were surprisingly light on their feet. It could make it. But it would also be able to pull itself up onto the roof of Building A.

Annabeth tapped her chin, almost at a conclusion, she knew it. Wherever the empousa went, it was trying to kill the demigods, or trap them at least. Building A would give it higher ground, but if that was what the monster was seeking, it would've already leaped onto the girls from that roof above them.

She turned to Building B. There were gaping holes peppered across the roof, and many more to come judging by the way the wooden frame lay visible beneath the surface of the dry wall like a starving ribcage beneath the skin.

That had to be where the empousa had gone.

Annabeth called to Rachel and the girls stood by the edge of the roof, debating.

"This has to be where it went."

"Uh yeah, that's great, but I'm not walking on _that_!" Rachel threw her arm out like a Frisbee.

"Trust me on this," Annabeth said. "You don't want to go back to camp without even trying, do you?"

"I may never get back to camp if I follow you!"

"Just-" Annabeth softened her tone, realizing it had grown an edge. "P…" her Fatal Flaw kept her from saying it too often, but she spit it out. "Please."

Rachel eyed her. "Since when do you care about this quest?"

"It's not even a quest, really. Well it is, but compared to-"

"Yeah, I get it," Rachel interrupted. "You took down the Titans, so did I, pretty big quest, now get on with it."

"I've cared about this quest since I decided that going home without figuring out these empousai's weirdness would be an epic fail."

"Homer epic?"

"Homer epic." The blonde girl affirmed. "At least to me."

"Right—cocky Athena crap, I remember."

"Will you just come on?"

"Fine, but you're going first." Rachel said.

Annabeth bit down on her lip in frustration. Why did everything that girl did get on her nerves? It was like a bug skittering up her shirt whenever she spoke, or nails digging into a chalkboard whenever she smiled. She respected her, yes; Rachel was resilient and headstrong, and had clarified with both Percy and Annabeth that anything between her and Percy had been a mistake. So what made her so… aggravating?

She knew. It was her own self. Another side-effect of her Fatal Flaw, pride, was possessiveness. At times, the daughter of Athena could feel herself mentally wrestling with jealousy that threatened to ruin her relationships with people. Making friends was great, until she realized someone else might be better friends with them than she was. How was that possible? She had worked so hard! To be friends, to find common ground—heck, she had spent her whole life preparing to win every battle she entered, and this person was trying to s_teal her friend?_ It was a problem. That's why she wanted to protect Percy, keep him for herself. He was Annabeth's, and that was… scarily protective. It was just another thing she would have to overcome if she were to work together with the Oracle of Delphi. Annabeth massaged her temples and refocused on her plan. She braced her feet against the edge of the roof.

"Well, counter-productivity, looks like we're friends now." And jumped.

She flew across the gap, landing on the next roof. Her heel dipped over the lip of the building. She balanced, eyes closed, and stood up again. She stepped forward, gingerly laying her foot where the roof seemed more stable and made her way a few more steps.

Then something slammed into her and she fell.

The ceiling caved in beneath her and she tumbled into the debris. And then she stopped. Why wasn't she falling? She looked up to find a ball of red frizz gripping her ankle and swearing into the abyss. Rachel. The Oracle groaned, doing her best to keep hold of Annabeth.

"You're really heavy!" She shouted.

Annabeth scanned her upside-down surroundings for a way to help the smaller girl. Rachel was a big part of Camp Half-Blood, but she wasn't a demigod; she hadn't been trained for strength or speed or stamina. Her arms would give out and send Annabeth into the dark, moldy hole beneath her. _Like falling into Tarturus_, Annabeth thought. Hopefully, she would never have to know what that was like.

Then a thought struck her: what had knocked her into this hole in the first place? The grim realization dawned on the blonde girl. She craned her neck to look at Rachel. "_You!_"

Rachel turned tomato red—or perhaps that was just from the exertion of holding up a sixteen-year-old girl. "I'm sorry!" She blurted. "I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean it!"

"Give me one good reason I should believe that!"

"Reason one: you're still alive!"

Annabeth growled. "How much longer can you hold?" She asked.

Rachel paused, considering. "Not long. Please hurry." Her voice was strained and it was obvious that she no longer had the capacity to keep her grip. Annabeth felt sweaty fingers grasping her ankle again and again.

Her heart accelerated. _Think…_

There was a wall not far from her, a bit beyond the reach of the hole. She scrabbled at the face of the wall, trying to grab onto something, but it was useless, the most she could do was scrape her fingers on the narrow ledge between brick and mortar. Her heart pounded in her ears and she wondered: why wasn't she falling?

Rachel was still holding on, grunting and breathless. Annabeth tried desperately to swing back up onto the building but she wasn't strong enough, not after one of the empousa from earlier had left a deep cut on her abdomen. It was bandaged up, but now she felt blood seeping through her orange t-shirt. She gulped at the air, pushing all her power into swinging back onto the roof and struggling to grab the edge of the hole. Every time, her fingers slipped and chunks of cement and dry wall sprinkled onto her face, scraping it in places. Her arms and chest were drenched in sweat. She heard Rachel cry out as her hands slid up Annabeth's ankle.

Time slowed down in her head. This was it. Rachel was gripping her foot now, her palms slick and her entire body flushed. There was no way she could hold for longer than a few seconds. Then Annabeth would drop like a stone into the moldy, rat-infested chasm grinning beneath her. It was several-dozen feet to the ground; she could almost hear her body crunching against the concrete when she hit the bottom. She looked around; none of her wisdom could get her out of there. None of her wisdom could save her. She prayed to the gods for help but she knew there would be none. The only person who cared enough to save her now was…

_Percy,_ she thought, and her lips parted. And she fell.


	2. Chapter 2

It happened in an instant.

For one second she could only see the blackness stretching down past the floor, and wondered whether or not she was going to get E-Z Death. And in the next second there was a light, coming right at her as she fell. Just when she thought it was going to stop, it slammed into her, stealing the breath from her lungs. It swung her up, past the breach in the ceiling. That was impossible… it must have been a trick. Her gray eyes fluttered shut and she imagined the talking-to she would give Hades when this was all over. When they were open again she saw the lights of New York City twinkling like fireflies.

And a girl standing over her, knife in hand. _Gods dam it, _Annabeth thought. There was no way she had gone through everything she had over the past five years to nearly die on a minor quest before getting mugged and stabbed by some prosti-

"Hey there," the girl wiggled her long fingers. "I see you fell in a hole."

Annabeth groaned, sitting up. She was sprawled on the roof of the same building she had fallen into, a few feet from the gaping hole. She scooted farther away from it. The girl before her was probably around her age, but she looked like a woman. She was tall, and loftily built, curved in all the right places, her dark hair hanging to her waist. She could've fit in with the Aphrodite cabin without a second thought.

But no—only a few Aphrodites had black tattoos curling up their arms and collarbones, and none looked like this. And Aphrodites rarely held knives like that. This girl held the glowing, white dagger in her hand with a trained arm, her fingers wrapped skillfully around the hilt. She knew how to use that weapon, and many more too—and she wasn't afraid of doing so, either.

"Can you talk—does she talk?" Her first statement was directed at Annabeth, but then she turned her head to speak to someone next to her.

"Too much," the person replied. "And she's very bossy."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at Rachel. The girl shrugged unapologetically.

"That's fine," said another girl. "You can always outrun the people you don't like and use them as bait."

Annabeth turned and narrowed her eyes at… Rachel.

She blinked, looking back and forth between the two. Not Rachel?

"I know," said the tall girl in the center, reading her thoughts. "Freaky, right?"

Upon second inspection, Annabeth noticed that there were not, in fact, two Rachels (thank the gods), but rather Rachel, and a girl who looked quite like her. She had the same red hair, big, green eyes, and petite frame; but there were differences. The other girl looked older, maybe by a year or two, and had a good deal of muscle packed around her small figure. She also had the strange tattoos etched into her pale skin.

"I'm just kidding," said the girl, extending her hand. "My name's Clary. Hope you don't hate me."

Annabeth didn't have a reply to that just yet. She shook Clary's hand anyway. Despite her carefree tone, her eyebrows were drawn with skepticism. She too had a glowing dagger in her hand. What were they made of? They were translucent, but not made of glass, and they radiated a strange sort of shimmering light. The edge looked deadly sharp, and she was sure this girl knew how to use it.

The black-haired girl offered her hand likewise. "Isabelle. But you can call me 'Your Savior.'"

The daughter of Athena accepted her hand, mulling over the past few moments.

"You saved me?" She asked.

"That's what 'Your Savior' means."

"How? Where were you?"

Isabelle crawled to the edge of the hole. She looked around for a moment, and then pointed inside, grinning.

Annabeth shook her head. "Why would you be in there? This building is too unstable to enter safely."

The girl tucked away her knife, the light snuffed out in layers of black clothing. "The same reason _you_ were on the roof." She walked a few steps, as if the hotel wasn't collapsing beneath her. "And who said anything about '_safely_'?"

With that, she yanked the smaller girl—Clary— to her feet. "Let's go, Fray. Business to handle and whatnot."

"I guess we're pretty lucky you were here," Annabeth said. "Which raises the question: why didn't you help us _before_ I started falling to my death?"

Isabelle turned, rolling her eyes. "Well, Miss Sassypants, not every rescue mission happens that quickly. We had to set up the rope, and in a building this old, that is a difficult thing to do. You know, _safely._"

Now Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime," the girl called from the other side of the roof. "And try not to find yourself on a dilapidated rooftop again, as that can be a very dangerous highway to death."

"I've been on a highway to death," she muttered. "And it sure as Hades doesn't look like an old hotel."

Rachel poked her shoulder and raised her brow. She shook it off. Isabelle gestured for her companion to leave with her.

"Should we really be leaving them alone?" Clary inquired. "This is not the safest place to be hanging out around."

Isabelle squeezed the hilt of the dagger protruding from her belt. "Well…"

Clary turned to the two campers. "Why were the two of you up here?" Her voice had hardened.

Annabeth looked to Rachel and Rachel looked to Annabeth. "We were chasing something."

"What were you chasing?"

"It was… more or less a…"

In that moment, a creature dragged itself onto the roof from within the hole, lugging a bronze leg behind it. It stood and faced the girls, baring its scarlet fangs.

"That," Rachel finished.

It charged. Annabeth ducked, drawing her bronze dagger. The empousa spun around her and snapped at her neck. The girl, still facing the other way, swept out her arm and brought the weapon down onto its neck. It hit home, passing through its esophagus, the tip protruding wretchedly from its throat. The wound bubbled with crimson blood and the creature coughed, more blood squalling from its mouth. Annabeth turned and loosened her dagger, wiping it on her T-shirt.

"That was quick."

At that moment, another pale-faced creature erupted from the hole. This one, to Annabeth's surprise, lacked the trademark, mismatched legs and feminine appearance of an average empousa. It glared at the group of warriors on the rooftop before grinning, revealing needle-sharp fangs. "I see the Nephilim have found friends," he purred. "Interesting. I thought I smelled blood on the roof."

He pointed to the pile of ash at their feet that was once the empousa. "A fallen comrade?" He asked. Then his nostrils flared. "No. Not of mine."

He took a step closer. Isabelle drew her knife. "You're not comrades with anybody."

"No," he said surprised, as if just recalling this fact. "No, not at all. But I did not mention it being _my _fallen comrade. Did I?"

"We don't keep_ vampires_ as—" Isabelle stopped short. The rooftop became still. And silent. The only movement was her long hair fluttering in the wind.

_Vampires? _Annabeth wondered. She supposed that was the name mortals gave to the empousai they found. But was this an empousa? And were these mortals? She doubted both.

"Really?" Asked the… empousa, surprised. "You do not keep vampires as—what? Comrades? Pets? Because you certainly seem attached to that traitorous Daylighter-"

"_Sammael!_"

There was a movement and a streak of light out of the corner of Annabeth's eye and the empousa fell, scarlet blood flooding from his heart before he crumbled to ashes, joining the heap already on the ground. Annabeth turned to find Clary with her arm poised in a throwing position. She brushed off her palms and retrieved her glowing knife. Her lips were pressed firmly together; she was pissed.

Isabelle said, "We weren't supposed to-"

"I know," was the girl's reply. She sheathed her dagger and faced the other way. Definitely pissed.

"Interesting," noted Annabeth.

Isabelle and Clary, as if remembering their company, exchanged a glance. "I don't suppose you… know what a Shadowhunter is?"

The demigod shook her head. The Oracle shook hers.

"Where'd you learn to fight?" Isabelle inquired.

"Where did you?"

Rachel peered at the strange girls. "I think we can all agree that that was not an empousa, and that what you did is not something mortals do," she said. "So say it loud, say it proud, you're… Nephilim?" She looked to the daughter of Athena. "Do you have any clue what that is?"

Annabeth shook her head. "But they do."


	3. Chapter 3

Isabelle and Clary didn't reply, although both of them had a hand on their belts.

"Perhaps we shouldn't do this on the roof."

Annabeth cocked her head, "Why shouldn't we?"

Isabelle gritted her teeth. "Because you little-"

"_Because,_" Clary interjected. "No one needs to get hurt. Yet. We should figure this out somewhere safer where no one will down any more holes."

One moment. Two. Three. They all agreed.

The girls found a way down the face of the building. Four sets of feet slapped onto the pavement. They entered an abandoned office across the street, swinging through the shattered windows to stand in the lobby. The only light filtered in through the transom; a billion little bulbs from Manhattan, and trillion more from the moon. The Hunters were probably out and about beneath their maiden's glow. Annabeth turned to face the two girls. "So what's it gonna be?"

"More than mundies," noted Isabelle, looking down. "We can be sure of that."

Mundies? Mortals?

"How?" Clary asked.

Isabelle gestured to the campers. "Look at what they did. Look at how they handled that. No mundane does that."

"What are you getting at?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm getting at," Isabelle hissed, "taking a step away from this."

The redhead crossed her arms. "No. We can't do that. Jace brought me in when he was ninety percent sure I was-"

"WHOA," the other girl held out her arms and shook her head. "Whoa. No. No way. Jace has nothing to do with this. You saw what we dealt with because of that; you saw the reaction of not only the Clave, but everyone else too. We aren't going to risk our place in the Clave _again _for these two. There's way too much crap going on already, we don't need any more. And might I mention Jace was in _love _with you? That's another difference."

Annabeth was intrigued by this discussion, her gray eyes watching each volley by the strange girls. Several names caught her attention like _Clave, _and _Jace, _but she decided not to ask. It was better to watch.

"You know as well as I do we can't just leave them," Clary said. "That's too risky."

"And you know as well as I do we can't just take them," Isabelle countered. "That's even riskier."

Tension rose like high-tide in the small lobby. Every second grew more dangerous. They were at a standstill. The two girls weren't the only ones with a decision to make, however. Annabeth had to decide where to go from here as well.

She scratched her chin, taking in her surroundings in the case of an urgent escape. The walls were smooth, perhaps a little moldy, and there was no furniture in the room at all. She noticed a hall protruding from the side with a narrow opening. It was dark, shunned from the moonlight. Her mind was drawn to it and she put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. The girl jumped.

"Give us a minute," Annabeth said, and dragged her little friend across the room. They took a few steps into the hallway and she turned to face her, arms crossed.

"What?" Rachel asked. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Because you got us into this," was her reply.

"What! I'm not the one who fell into a hole! You couldn't expect me to hold out any longer."

"No, but I _should _haveexpected you to run into me and knock me into the mess."

"Well I apologize if I don't happen to be as graceful and coordinated as the great, wonderful child of a GOD."

Annabeth opened her mouth to reply, but then shut it, realizing there was no point in arguing. There was something behind Rachel's words that made it seem more than a helpless insult. She sighed and peered around the corner. Clary and Isabelle were still there. They were serious. If their glowing blades and black, leather gear didn't say it, their presence did.

"We should tell them about what's going on," said Rachel.

Annabeth twirled to look at her, incredulity evident in her gray eyes. The other girl backed off a step. "Or at least about the empousai."

"We shouldn't tell them a_nything_."

Rachel crossed her arms and looked at her, frustrated. "Really Annie? This isn't like any normal situation."

"Which is exactly why we should tell them _nothing_!" Her eyes were wider than ever. "They're obviously up to something-"

"They're not up to anything," the other girl scoffed.

"Look, just because we found your scary twin doesn't mean we should trust her or her friend."

"Does she look that much like me?" Rachel peeped her head around the corner. She raised her hands to her breasts self-consciously. "Dam." Annabeth slapped her wrist and she returned her attention sourly.

"Now is not the time." The girl brushed blonde hair from her face. "We've got to do something. They're either our enemies or our friends out there; we could be in grave danger."

"…Or, we could have backup with these empousai."

The thought struck her. If she could trust them…

Annabeth peered out of the hallway with a weary expression. The two, tattooed girls stood patiently in the other room, checking their weapons and...Filing their nails with them. At least, the tall one was. They seemed oblivious and at the same time, itching for a reply. It seems they had already come to a conclusion. For all her wisdom, Annabeth couldn't be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing… yet.


	4. Chapter 4

With a frustrated sigh, she turned back to Rachel. "I guess… we don't have the upper hand with those empousai. Maybe, with two more…"

The girl smiled slyly from behind her red hair. "I knew you'd cave."

Annabeth threw her a bitter look. '"Knew' as in freaky, Oracle of Delphi crap, or 'knew' as in annoying, bratty ginger crap?"

Rachel tapped her chin. "Maybe one, maybe the other. You never know when the freaky Oracle of Delphi is inside an annoying, bratty ginger."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. We're going to trust these girls- but if you and your doppelganger start raising Kronos or something, I'm gonna have a big, fat I-Told-You-So to chuck at your face when this is over."

"All right, I accept that. So are you ready to fight some ugly vampires?"

They strode back into the room. "We have a problem," Annabeth piped up. Rachel opened her mouth, about to dive into a whirlwind of information, but Annabeth held up a hand to silence her. "We have a few… monsters to catch. But they keep escaping. We can't find them anywhere. That's why we were on that roof and eventually… in it." She made a little plunging motion with her hand. "We also have another problem. You two."

Isabelle pulled her blade but Clary held her back. "We also have a problem, as you heard," the girl explained. "A few rogue… 'monsters' have been terrorizing the city. That guy you just met had a hand in giving us that problem. We don't know how many there are, and we can't kill them all. But maybe with a little help…"

"We could both get what we want," finished Annabeth. The girl backed off, nodding.

"You don't have to accept," she said. "But if you don't, then there's a good chance we'll follow you back to wherever you came from."

"And bury a knife in your back." Isabelle assured. Clary elbowed her, but the message had been received.

The blonde girl nodded. She turned the idea over in her head. Could she trust these girls? They were dressed in black, holding _knives,_ and they had just killed somebody with them- monster or not. There was every reason to doubt, she thought. But no, she had promised she would trust them.

That was a big deal. Annabeth wasn't the trusting type. She had been through a lot in her young life: her mother being more than human, the gap between her and her father, Thalia being turned into a tree, Thalia no longer being a tree, countless deaths, Luke betraying everyone. The last one hurt the most. All these things… they gave her trust issues. Percy had an effect on her that somewhat mended the scars, but he wasn't around right now, so…

If only he was.

But now Annabeth could do something on her own. She could trust someone… on her own.

Well, she wasn't entirely alone. There was Rachel. She was another cause for trust issues. Maybe if this ended with both of them alive, and a pile of slain empousai at their feet, she would have less of a problem with the girl.

At the moment, they were standing face-to-face with a potential enemy. Two skilled warriors with weapons- and possibly backup. They had a story. Annabeth knew a lot, but she didn't know who or what these girls were. Not monsters, necessarily. Not demigods. Not actual gods. Not naiads or dryads or anything of that sort. They seemed… human. Mortal. But unfamiliar power almost glowed from their marked skin. She couldn't put her finger on why.

"Are you going to tell us anything about yourselves?" Annabeth inquired.

"Are you?" replied Clary.

The blonde girl nodded. "Right. No questions policy. If anyone objects," she pulled the dagger from her belt. "Say 'I.'"

No one did.

Isabelle smiled. "Then let's go vampire hunting."

The four warriors made their way to the other side of town, darting through streets and alleys that reeked of monster activity. They walked in silence, seeing no need to attract more creatures than those they were looking for. Annabeth thought of different ways to tackle the problem of the empousai. There were an infinite number of places they could be hiding out, and an unknown number of reasons they would scuttle away from a fight scene like that.

She picked over the thought. The creatures only ditched _after_ they lunged or got in a good scratch. They were trying to grab the attention of Annabeth and Rachel. Why? The girls knew they were there. The empousai must have been trying to tell them something- but why not just say it?

Then it hit her: The answer, and a body flying out from the dusty brick shadows.

Annabeth unsheathed her dagger and struggled to flip her attacker. She was lying on the dirty New York street, an empousa holding her down.

It hissed. "Annabeth Chase! So nice to see you! I've heard a lot about you. Never met you though. Now it seems I finally have the honor." It grinned between blood-red lips, two fangs peeking out. She said the word '_honor_' with sarcasm as heavy as she was. The demigod fought to fill her lungs with the creature's weight on top of her.

The empousa's claws dug into her shoulders. It- or _she_\- was wearing a shabby, red-and-white cheerleader's uniform with the words "GO TEAM!" on the front. It smelled of flesh and mothballs, a strong concoction that made Annabeth drowsy.

Annabeth bent her knee and jabbed it into the empousa's stomach. The creature gasped and the girl brought her dagger down. The empousa rolled out of the way, then managing to pin her before she could get up again. Where were the others? Why weren't they helping her?

"Don't worry," snarled the empousa with the annoying, high-school-girl voice most of her kind had. She fought to keep hold of the girl. "I don't want to hurt you. Or your friends. Don't worry about them, either. They're just up ahead- with my friends."

Annabeth strained her neck to see Rachel, Isabelle, and Clary, each with an empousa trapping her. All four of them could've fought off their attackers with ease any other day. She had the feeling it had something to do with the smell the monsters carried on them now. Not as sickly-sweet as chloroform, but enough to keep them dozy. The work of the Mist, she thought.

The creature returned her gaze to Annabeth. "I don't like your new friends. What happened to your hot boyfriend, anyway? He didn't join you? You two are dating now, right? I suppose he doesn't care enough to come with you."

"Shut up!" shouted Annabeth with more intensity than she intended.

"Oh, but I wish I did!" The empousa licked her lips. "Black hair, green eyes, long lashes… He is allllll the rage around Olympus. And New York. You don't know how much I would just _love_ to sink my fangs into him."

A little revolted, Annabeth said, "That's not why you're here."

"Right. Well. I just came to tell you that we've been trying to show you something. So, come check it out when you get the chance. I'm sure you'll love it." She grinned a horrible grin and darted off with the three other empousai. Annabeth was unable to see where they had gone; she was lying on the ground, and too tired to catch up.

After several moments, she sat up. Isabelle approached her and knelt to offer a hand. Annabeth took it. "Your boyfriend sounds hot," the tall girl stated.

Annabeth rubbed the stupor out of her forehead. "Thanks."


	5. Chapter 5

"So what do we do now?" inquired Rachel, wobbling up to them. "Just… follow the she-devil?"

The demigod stood still for a moment, warming up her mind. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I guess so." She took several deep breaths, clearing her lungs and her head, and then went on. "Did anyone see where they went?"

"Over there," Clary pointed down an alley. "Those idiots. That was the way we were going anyway."

"In that case, do you think they could be in the same place as your 'vampires'?"

She shook her head. "Let's hope not. If those creatures teamed up with the rogue vampires, there could be Hell in the streets."

They jogged down the alley and past a few more turns. They found themselves standing before a looming factory- abandoned, but alive with energy. It was too dark to see if anything was moving, too silent for there to have been a noise, but the sixth sense crawling up the girls' spines was all they needed to know the building was hostile.

Annabeth gripped her weapon. "Do we go in?"

The others nodded. Isabelle and Clary pulled sticks from their back pockets and began drawing on themselves with determination. Annabeth and Rachel watched in puzzlement. "What the…?" Rachel trailed off. The sticks gleamed in the moonlight, sparking where they touched their skin.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth approached them to get a closer look.

"Marking ourselves," said Clary.

"With what? Magic wands?"

"No. Steles," Isabelle corrected.

"That word means nothing," Rachel drew a hand across her forehead. "Nothing at all."

"A stele is like… a magic pen, in a way," explained Isabelle. "You draw on yourself- or a surface of some sort- and it leaves a black Mark: like this." She slashed a straight line on her forearm, burning a tattoo-like strip into the skin, until it sunk into her flesh like it was made of water. "But it doesn't do anything unless you shape it into a rune."

"A rune…" Annabeth echoed. "I know a few."

Izzy scoffed, "None of these runes. These runes are- they give you power."

"What?" cried Rachel. "Give me that thing, I want to try."

"No no no no no," the tall girl said, holding off Rachel like a small child. "Only certain people can be Marked without becoming… monstrous. And not all runes are exactly power-giving. Some improve your stealth, your stamina, your eyesight. Many are temporary, but some are permanent. The permanent ones aren't usually drawn by yourself, though."

"So what happens if you want to say, strengthen your upper body? Is there a rune for that?" Annabeth asked.

"There's a rune for that," Clary said. "There's a rune for everything. Almost."

"You would just have to draw a strength rune on your upper body," Izzy clarified. "Watch." She placed the tip of the stele against her collarbone and began to draw. Black Marks swirled out from the tip as she carved a beautiful and intricate shape onto her skin. It hurt Annabeth's eyes to look at it. It was like reading a language she couldn't quite understand. Like her dyslexia, but stronger. This rune didn't fade away.

"How do _we_ know it worked?" Rachel placed her hands on her hips.

Isabelle closed her fist. "Do you want to test it?"

The Oracle shied away. "No thanks. I'm fine."

"That's amazing," mumbled Annabeth. "What's this one?" She pointed at a rune on the girl's arm.

"It means stamina," the tall girl explained. "You draw it on yourself and improve that specific ability. Kind of simple, kind of not at all. You learn it over time."

"It's powerful, though," Clary warned. "Don't try using it. I think- I _hope- _it won't hurt you. But it could, and it's not worth the risk. Believe me."

"Then we'll just go in like this," Rachel adjusted the breastplate beneath her paint-splattered Camp T-shirt. Annabeth fixed her shoulder pads. "No sparkly wands or glowing knives. Just good ol' leather and bronze."

"That should do. Not as foolproof as it could be, but…"

"We'll be fine," Annabeth said. "Let's just go before something bad happens."

The four girls entered the building.

It was gloomy inside. Clary raised her glowing rock and light spilled across the factory floor. It looked like a dragon's lair. Small, shiny objects were strewn across the cement ground like gold coins, though Annabeth could tell they were the odds and ends of the hulking beast of a machine in the center of the room.

She approached the contraption, wary that somehow it would start on its own and swallow her into its metallic gullet. That was stupid, though. Of course there was no such thing as living, mechanical dragon- there had been one, but of course that was long gone by now. She laid her hand on the machine. It was cold, and had gone unused for a long time. She began to inspect it. Now, Annabeth wasn't from the Hephaestus cabin- when it came to gadgets, she was often at a loss- but she _was _from the Athena cabin, and she could tell that this thing was used to make textiles.

"It's seems pretty normal," she commented. "An old factory loom in an old factory. It hasn't been used for a while." She brushed dust off the top of it before turning away. Under her finger was something warm on its cold surface. She lifted her hand and slowly, very slowly, drew her dagger and turned.

A not-empousa stood over her, studying the machine. His expression was unobtrusive, unconcerned of the dagger meant for him. He was pale, with red lips, and a handsome face. His ancient eyes rested on the loom's many levers and buttons, devoid of thought. She found these 'vampires' more frightening than the empousai, who were just irritating and sometimes harmful to mortals. She didn't know the power limits on these vampires, the cruelty running in their veins. She didn't know their weaknesses like she did with the empousai. Were the old stories like "_Dracula_" true? Did she need a wooden stake and a bucket of holy water to defeat this monster?

"Annabeth," came a harsh whisper from the corner. Annabeth glanced to the side, where Isabelle pointed at the dagger in her hand and shook her head. What? Why shouldn't she kill the creature? It still stood in a daze at her side. Again, Izzy shook her head. She grabbed a knife from her own belt and pointed at it. _This._

Rachel, standing beside her, shrugged. "It's worth a try."

The vampire turned his gaze from the machine to the three girls in the corner. His lips curled up at the edges and Annabeth realized their redness was from stained blood. "Nephilim," he said in greeting. He grinned at the demigod. "Not Nephilim."

"What is happening here?" demanded Clary. "Are all of the rogues hiding in this place?"

He smiled. "We're not really hiding. Just waiting for you." In a flash he was beside the other girls and Annabeth strode after him, dagger gripped in her hand. It wouldn't be ENTIRELY useless if it was driven straight through his neck. The vampire patted Clary on the head. "Just for you."

"Is this Sebastian's work?" She hissed.

"Sebastian?" He mused. "No, certainly not. He has bigger things on his hands. This is just the work of some Downworlders who feel we shouldn't be alone in our struggles against the Clave. Some of us are hungry, little Morgenstern. Some of us don't like to live off of sour, bottled blood for the rest of eternity. We could have so much freedom…"

"That's all?" Isabelle asked. "No schemes, no planned attacks on the Institute, just a bunch of vampires running around because they can't control their fangs?"

"Sounds like the Aphrodite cabin," mumbled Rachel.

"Mm, well…" the vampire scratched his chin. "We do have a scheme. Just not with demons, no. Something a little different."

"The empousai," concluded Annabeth. "You've allied yourselves."

"We've always been allies, really. It was only a matter of joining forces. Of course, not all Downworlders wished for a better eternity with your monsters. We are aware of some of your pets…"

Clary growled like a feral dog. She was pretty protective of her pets; then again, thought Annabeth, she could imagine Percy felt the same way with Mrs. O'Leary.

"Well, whatever the case, there are enough of us, and enough of them, and enough of someone else entirely to create a force much stronger than Clave or Council." He turned to face Annabeth. "Or Camp."

She furrowed her brow. "I doubt that."

"You will believe me eventually."

"Make me believe you now," snarled Clary.

The vampire shrugged. "As you wish."

Then, from the rafters and the shadows and the piles of concrete and the hanging catwalks and through gaps in the ceiling and walls and from seemingly thin air, an army of dark figures presented itself. Vampires and empousai and countless other beasts intermingled in a single, hellish swarm of monsters that clouded the air with their noxious smell. Annabeth gagged and clutched her dagger.

"What do you want?" She hissed. "Fresh blood? The whole world? Because the former is much easier to provide to you than the latter."

The vampire sneered. "Perhaps we do not wish to be provided for. We are hunters, predators, all of us. Forced into submission by a few children and self-righteous old bats. But we are stronger than that. Together, we can overcome the petty chains dangling from our necks, like guard dogs with nothing to attack. We want our freedom. And it would be better now, while your peoples are weak, for us to strike them down."

"We are not weak," Izzy asserted. "We are never weak. That is why we are still here."

The creature batted her comment away. The army around them began shifting from foot to foot- or in some cases: bronze to hoof, tentacle to tentacle, paw to stump, and claw to weird fish-looking thing. Annabeth did not take this as a good sign. She looked to Rachel, who nodded in concurrence. Despite her small stature and harmless appeal, she stood tall and defiant as ever, her red hair a tangled cloud around her head. In the back of Annabeth's mind, she sighed in relief that Percy hadn't chosen Rachel. She was fiercer than she seemed, and she knew how strong girls could tunnel into a guy's head…

_No,_ she told herself. _Percy is the most devoted boyfriend anyone could have; he would never even consider leaving me. And if he ever could, he would forget the thought before there was time to blink. Seaweed Brain…_

She snapped to attention again. "Why did you want us here?"

The vampire grinned, fangs poking from beneath his lip. "I wanted you here, dear girl, because there was no time to convince the big wheels of your societies that we were here, and we were prepared to fight. They are so stiff. Never listen. But there are always the young; the brave-hearted warriors that believe the goodness of this world is still savable. Those who think they know love and know loss and know sacrifice… but they don't. Those little angels are the only ones willing to listen to us. Little angels like you."

"I am NOT a little angel," snapped Rachel.

"I'm a little angel," Isabelle pondered. "Well, mostly human. But a little angel."

"We planned to tell your…" he struggled for words, "_boyfriends._ But it did not take long for us to realize they were not fit to carry our message. Human boys tend to be stupid."

"Ain't that the truth," Izzy smirked.

"Can we not?" shot Clary with a meaningful glare. "There's no time. Tell us the message you want us to pass on to the Clave."

The vampire pursed his lips. "Tell them this much, little angel: The Downworlders are done with rules. Their done with laws. They seek to free themselves, and then cleanse their ranks of the annoying followers of the angels. We know demons. We are ready to fight."

"And what do you want _us _to say?" Annabeth crossed her arms.

"Tell your Olympians that we had not been jesting; we are ready to defeat you now. We tried informing that idiot wine god but he thought we were silly. We are not silly," he added with a grim face.

"Really? I think you guys could be on Sesame Street," Clary said.

"No jokes," the vampire spit.

"One helpless villager," chanted the red haired girl in a strange accent. "Two helpless villagers…"

"Stop it!" He bared his fangs at her and she rolled her eyes "This is not a game. We will defeat you. All of you."

"Then just kill us now," said Rachel, pulling a knife. "What's stopping you?"

Annabeth glared at the Oracle. It wasn't the wisest thing for her to request while surrounded by a roiling mass of monsters and demons that wanted nothing more than just that. "We have a message to send," snapped the vampire. "I already said that. We can't kill the messenger, now can we? Although… there are four of you. We need only to send two messages."

The girls tensed. Annabeth growled under her breath, "What. Did. You. _Do?_"

Rachel's eyes were popping out of her head. "NO no no no no no, Mr. Vampire Man. That won't be necessary. We'll just be going. Gotta report the whole oncoming monster-apocalypse, and all. We'll be real busy cowering in fright, you can count on that, Count Evil."

"No," purred the creature, deep in thought. "I think this is better. One of each takes the message. The other two may be taken as tributes. Examples. Proof that we are here." He smiled a terrible, beautiful, bloodstained smile. "The question is… who will perish?"

"No one," announced Isabelle. "Get it in your head, Oscar the Grouch: No one is going to offer themselves up to a bunch of talking garbage cans."

"Are we still doing that whole Sesame Street thing?" wondered Clary. "Because I have a quite a few-"

"I'll go if I have to," offered Rachel. "But let's try to avoid any situations where I do."

"You're not going," said Annabeth with more ferocity than she expected. "I won't let you. If it comes down to it, I'll go."

"But why? You're the great and powerful Annabeth Chase, what do I matter to anyone?"

She was taken aback for a moment. Rachel's words stung with emotion. Was that really how she thought of her? "That's not true at all," she argued. "You matter to the Camp. You're the Oracle. You're brave and fierce- you're only a mortal."

'"_Only a mortal_,'" she mocked with a sour expression. "That's all I ever am."

Annabeth wasn't sure how to respond. She meant to tell Rachel that she was mightier than any of the demigods because she wasn't born the way they were, from some ancient, wraithlike powers in the sky. She was born much differently, and still she had faced up to the danger before her. She was a mortal, yes, but that didn't mean she hadn't been born special.

However, there was no time to say any of these things because the vampire had already grabbed the redhead and covered her mouth. "So we'll take this one," he said. "Any objections?"

"SEVERAL objections," Isabelle retorted.

"We're not leaving without her," said Annabeth.

"Fine," the vampire grinned. "We'll just have your male counterparts take the message. They'll be sure to come if their beloved wenches happen to… disappear."

"Male counterparts," muttered Izzy. "Do you guys even have friends?"

With a cry of rage, Annabeth threw herself at the vampire. He twisted out of the way, still gripping the Oracle by the mouth. "Don't think it will be that easy, girl. We still- OW!"

He tore his hand away from Rachel's mouth. She grinned and took the moment to punch him in the face. His head snapped back, but he stood his ground. He turned a mischievous smile on the small girl before him. His keen, dead eyes crossed over her face. "Kill them."

The swarm of creatures charged in what felt like an ordered march, a pattern buried deep within the layers of psychotic monster flesh. Annabeth hurdled onto of the machine and was followed by the two strange girls. "Where's Rachel?" She asked, slashing through the neck of an empousa without losing focus. The girls peered out over the mass, but it was too hard to see anything. "Crap…"

She leaped off the loom and into the whirlpool. Her dagger cut through the beasts, but it seemed more out of luck than skill. It wouldn't hold out for long. She struck her way through the monsters until she saw a flash of red hair. Clary was still defending herself with Isabelle on the machine; it had to be Rachel. She followed it, getting torn at from all directions by creatures she had never even heard of before. The bronze dagger she was so used to having by her side seemed to have no effect on some of them- only those she was familiar with burst into dust. Again she glimpsed the red hair and she called out.

A vampire gripped her shoulder and swept her around. She stood, stunned, and brought her knife down on the creature's side. Nothing happened. She frowned down at where blood trickled from the fatal wound, but saw to her astonishment that it healed within a matter of seconds. The vampire chuckled and pulled her nearer. Annabeth struggled to escape her grasp, but it was strong. She slid down, nailing an uppercut on her assailant's chin, and fled after the Oracle of Delphi.

Monsters hissed and lunged at her, but they seemed occupied by something else. She hoped Clary and Izzy had managed to defend themselves, or even to escape, somehow. Even if they hadn't, the creatures seemed to be in the midst of battle. She didn't take much time to ponder this, instead racing after Rachel and calling out to her. She bolted forward, and fell on her face.

A staircase. She stumbled up, rubbing her sore jaw, and found herself on a catwalk dangling over the factory floor. She could see a small figure and a taller one fighting on top of the loom. At least they were alive. But what she found most surprising was the war that seemed to be unfolding below. The monsters she knew and the monsters she didn't were in the midst of some terrible, inhuman combat. Bodies were falling- but not bodies of her friends. She supposed that was a relief.

At the end of the catwalk was Rachel… and the vampire that had initiated the attack. "You," cried Annabeth over the sound of the battle. He turned on her. "What are you doing with Rachel?"

"Teaching her how to waltz," he sneered.

Rachel shook her head. "If that was what he was doing, I probably wouldn't be fighting back."

He kicked her in the shin and she yelped, kicking him right back. This had considerably less of an effect. "As long as no one else wishes to follow my orders," he purred, swinging the girl around so she leaned over the edge. "I may at least follow them myself." Annabeth's eyes widened and she charged to the end of the catwalk, it swaying beneath her feet.

The vampire kissed the top of Rachel's head. "Bon suis, little girl." His hands opened and he released her to fall into the maddened pit of monsters. The open air enfolded Rachel, and it seemed she was doomed.

Annabeth sprinted across the catwalk and grabbed her arm. The girl fought for leverage, her feet slipping over the edge. The other tugged as best as she could to keep her up. "This seems like a sick sort of fate," she muttered.

"I can't imagine fate as otherwise," whispered the vampire over her shoulder. With a gentle, fatal push, he sent them over the edge.

Time felt frozen in place. Annabeth wasn't sure what came next: death, or a miracle? She had already fallen and been saved by a miracle today- her chances now were slim. She knew the cruelty of the gods. It was her time. Rachel's too, her eyes wide in her freckled face. She wished, for the briefest of moments, that she had been kinder to the Oracle in the time she had known her. It wasn't her fault that she had a crush on Percy. Annabeth couldn't blame herself for liking him either.

She wondered when Percy would hear about this… her death. The death of the daughter of Athena and the Oracle of Delphi. It had the cruel sort of poetry that all Greek tales had. She wondered if he would be angry; angry at her, or the vampires, or the gods, or everyone. It was difficult to imagine her sweet boyfriend as a rage-filled man, too despaired to stay sane. She hoped he would take the news gently. She hoped he would find happiness, even if she wasn't there… but he'd better pray to the gods her soul wouldn't rise out of the ground and beat his sorry butt if he started dating another girl too soon. It was a sad thought. A last thought. No- not quite. Her last thought would be this: I still love you, Perc-

Something grabbed her from behind.

"What is it with you and falling to your death?" Cried Isabelle. They crashed onto the ground, taking out a few monsters meanwhile.

"Thanks," Annabeth panted, wiping blonde hair from her eye. "I thought we were done for."

"You're welcome," Isabelle yanked her whip from where it had tied around the wires on the catwalk above. It tilted to the side, dragging the vampire with it. He leapt off and scurried down the staircase. "I thought you were, too."

"Gods, I need a whip," Rachel grumbled, rubbing her head. "Where's Clary?"

"On that machine still. The monsters seem to be fighting each other, strangely, so they aren't focusing on us as much. She still might need backup."

"I need backup!" Shouted Clary over the turmoil.

"There's our cue," said the Oracle, still a little breathless. They ran across the pit of monsters, slashing out with their blades where they could, but slipping through unwarranted most of the way. They reached the machine, climbing on top. It didn't take long to notice what had challenged the brave girl.

"A drakon," said Annabeth. "Not as bad as it could be."

"But those are almost extinct!" Izzy hollered, driving her blade into its belly. Clary followed suit, slashing into its yellowish flesh. The drakon reared with a shriek and spit.

"Run!" Annabeth yelled as she dodged the stream of poison. Izzy tumbled out of the way, but the beast lashed out with its talons when she got close enough. With a cry, she stood, and thrashed her glittering whip at its neck. It wound around and sliced straight through, its head dropping onto the machine and bouncing away. The body crumbled to dust.

Isabelle wiped blood from shoulder and promptly carved a healing rune into her skin.

"For the record," said Clary, whirling on a demon and slashing it to ash and ichor, "That wasn't a Drakonidae demon."

"I suppose Jace's tutoring has paid off?"

She shrugged. "All I know is that demons tend not to be yellow. I think it was one of theirs," she nodded her head Annabeth and Rachel's direction.

"I guess it was," Annabeth replied. "Though I've never really thought of it as _mine_."

" I wanna hear your story," said the redhead. "But I think we have an agreement in place. So I won't ask."

Annabeth looked over the room. Vampires were fighting empousai, demons were fighting monsters, and strange wizards were fighting Cyclopes. It was chaos. They were being ignored, other than a stray creature here and there. "Do you think this will ever reach us?" Rachel wondered aloud, slashing through an empousai.

Annabeth shook her head. "Do you even see that vampire that tried to turn you into a stain on the floor?"

"No… but he got away. Maybe he's wallowing in self-pity because his army started attacking itself."

"Look how many have died," Izzy pointed. It was true. Though there were no corpses, the ranks had depleted since the fighting began; now taking up less than half of the room. "I think we have an escape route."

Without saying anything else, they jumped down and dashed out of the factory. The sun was rising over the river, orange and pink and gray, and the air was chill on their sweaty faces. Blood was stained on Annabeth's shirt and arms and she wiped unidentifiable goop off her face. "That was fun."

"I agree," Izzy polished her knife. "If there is ever again a planned monster rebellion, you call me."

"Thank you for your help," Rachel said in a very un-Rachel-like manner. "I think we would both be dead twice over at least without you."

"No problem," Clary smiled. "Well- a little bit of a problem, but that's all resolved now."

There was a moment of silence. Screeches could still be heard from within the factory, and cars on the busy roads across the water. "What do we do?"

"I think we say nothing," said Annabeth. "That creep had no idea what he was doing. I don't think he'll be a problem anymore."

"And if we say anything about either of you, the Clave- our people will be livid with… well, I don't know, but they would raise hell to discover more. There's no point in that." Isabelle wrapped her whip about her forearm. She was used to this sort of post-combat feeling. They all were.

"Sounds good," Annabeth nodded. "We go home. We say nothing. End of story."

"Agreed ," they all said at once.

With a few waves, they departed under the rising sun. They could still hear Isabelle's heels clacking down the road, until they turned the corner. It was quiet, and they were exhausted as they reached their stop. Annabeth couldn't wait to get back to Camp.

Annabeth had slept into the late afternoon. She had joined Percy on the beach soon after. They sat together in a quiet companionship. She didn't tell him about her endeavors the night before, and he didn't ask for answers. She was making her way through a book on architecture; he was playing in the sand. The corner of her lip curled up in silent love. The ocean soughed at their feet and the air was light with the aroma of salt. Her foot was just touching the side of his leg. It was peaceful. From the corner of her eye she saw Percy carving a strange, intricate symbol into the sand.

_It means stamina, _explained a voice in her head. _You draw it on yourself and improve that specific ability. _

Out of the blue, Annabeth's arm shot out and grasped his wrist, keeping him from drawing anymore. "What?" Percy turned puzzled, sea-green eyes on her.

Her nails dug into his skin and she leveled their gazes. She looked at him with amazement. "I know what that is."


End file.
